


like a dream that you can't quite place

by consumptive_sphinx



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Fae AU, M/M, Teenage Burr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:24:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/consumptive_sphinx/pseuds/consumptive_sphinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He must have dreamed it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like a dream that you can't quite place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegreatpumpkin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatpumpkin/gifts).



He must have dreamed it.  
Aaron doesn’t understand why he keeps dwelling on it - it was just a flash of a vision, of glowing skin and dark hair. He barely remembers it. He probably dreamed it anyway.  
But still, he can’t get the image out of his mind.

He must have imagined it.  
Aaron doesn’t understand why he keeps dwelling on it - it was just a dream. Just a half-shadowed face in the woods outside his window. Just a glowing figure in the darkness.  
The image remains seared behind Aaron’s eyes, leaving him unable to concentrate on anything else.

He must have imagined it.  
Nevermind that Aaron’s feet are freezing, like he went outside barefoot in the snow. Nevermind the warmth that remains in the lantern that hangs by his bed in case he needs it. Nevermind the image in his mind of pushing the door open, of walking into the wood and barely noticing the cold - the image is dreamlike, not worth trusting.  
There are no footprints in the snow (nevermind that the snow fell all night, nevermind that they would have been covered). He must have dreamed it.  
Aaron feels like he’ll never be warm again.

Others are starting to notice.  
Aaron’s uncle comments on the violet half-moons stamped under his eyes and asks if Aaron is sleeping alright. He just nods. He is not so young that he can run to his uncle over dreams.  
His sister Sally taps him on the shoulder when he’s been staring out the window for too long, notes, “You seem fae-struck,” with concern in her voice.  
“The fae don’t exist,” Aaron says, and he sounds more certain than he feels.

He must have dreamed it.  
The fae don’t exist. They don’t. Nobody could have visited him. Nobody did.  
(the light is silvery pale through the open window; the air is cold. the boy’s skin is golden, and he looks like he should be warm. he is, for a moment - but then aaron pulls away, and he feels colder than before)  
He must have dreamed it.  
(oh god he’s so cold)  
Aaron wants to dream it again.

He must have dreamed it.  
Nevermind the ache in his legs (i’m just tired), the bruises on his hipbones (maybe i hit it on something), the taste of honey on the back of his tongue. Nevermind. It had to have been a dream.  
The fae don’t exist. Aaron must have dreamed it.  
(the boy is so warm, aaron finally feels warm)  
(and then the boy leaves, and aaron is cold again)

Aaron wakes in the middle of the night.  
He’s outside, in the woods, barefoot.  
It isn’t a dream.  
(they were never really dreams)  
He speeds up, ignoring the cold. He needs to find him.  
(he’s so cold. he needs the boy, he needs to be warm)

(aaron doesn’t find him)  
(nobody else finds aaron)


End file.
